


Worse

by J_E_McCormick



Series: His Thoughts, Spattered On Loose-Leaf Paper [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other, enjoy my misery fuckers, remember how last chapter was actually pretty sweet, tw: depression, tw:self-harm, yeah well this one just destroys it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_E_McCormick/pseuds/J_E_McCormick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon as his eyes open and he looks down to where Jehan is coming slowly awake, he knows that today is not going to be a good day.<br/>“Okay, or bad?” Courfeyrac asks gently. Jehan shakes his head, and it’s worse than ‘bad’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse

**Author's Note:**

> You know I mentioned that yesterday I wrote two fics and last night's one was the 'happy' one?  
> Yeah well this is the one I wrote straight after when I started crashing again.
> 
> Uh yes trigger warnings for depression and self-harm, actually mentioned in a little more detail this time. Make sure you guys are careful, yeah?
> 
> I should probably also mention that these don't really go in any sort of order, we're bouncing backwards and forwards as I please. I may or may not be bothered to reorder stuff at some point, but for now, presume that the worse it gets the further in it is.

As soon as his eyes open and he looks down to where Jehan is coming slowly awake, he knows that today is not going to be a good day.

“Okay, or bad?” Courfeyrac asks gently. Jehan shakes his head, and it’s worse than ‘bad’. Courfeyrac strokes his hand through Jehan’s hair. “Can you get out of bed?” Another shake of the head, and Courfeyrac sighs quietly, pressing a small kiss to Jehan’s forehead. Jehan shies away and Courfeyrac retracts his hands. Jehan looks as if he’s about to cry, but Courfeyrac can’t think of anything to do other than say “Hush, it’s okay, love, I understand” even though he _doesn’t_ and get out of bed with a mutter of “I’ll make some breakfast.”

He closes the door and hears crying and thinks that maybe he won’t try and get Jehan to eat this morning.

~~::.::~~

He calls up Marius to ask him to take notes during their Law lecture for him.

“Are you okay Courfeyrac?” He asks. Courfeyrac can practically hear the little concerned frown on his face. He tries to laugh lightheartedly but he gets the feeling it doesn’t quite work.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Courfeyrac says, and hopes his voice doesn’t betray the fact that his thoughts stray to Jehan and how his boyfriend is so far from fine and it hurts him. He hears Marius make a little humming noise that sounds a little disbelieving.

“Well, I’ll copy down some notes for you and get them to you as soon as I can.” Marius says.

“Thanks, Marius.” Courfeyrac says, and then he’s left alone with the silence of his apartment.

~~::.::~~

He presses his ear to the bedroom door and can’t hear crying, so he carefully pushes open the door to see if Jehan is up to eating lunch. Jehan’s back is to him but his breathing is slow and steady so Courfeyrac presumes he’s asleep and decides to leave him be for now. Sometimes it seems like sleeping really does help, like Jehan’s brain is really just exhausted and nothing else. Sometimes it doesn’t, but Courfeyrac wants to be optimistic. He wants so badly to be optimistic.

He considers going over and pressing a kiss to Jehan’s temple and stroking his hair and holding him close, but Jehan is a light sleeper and he doesn’t want to disturb him. Instead, he just closes the door softly and goes to make himself a sandwich.

It feels a little too empty and too lonely sat alone on his couch, nothing but silence accompanying him.

~~::.::~~

He puts on a CD to fill up the silence of the apartment – a compilation of musical theatre songs that Courfeyrac knows Grantaire bought for Jehan sometime last year, because secretly he’s as much of a theatre geek as Jehan is. Courfeyrac, with his dramatic streak, appreciates the shows, and has come to quite like some of the songs. He settles down to work on his studies, a mug of tea left cooling on the coffee table, a pen sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he traces words with his fingertips and removed when he needs to scribble something down.

He doesn’t think of the good days, when Jehan laughs at him and tells him he’s cute and then steals his pen so that he can kiss him.

~~::.::~~

It’s much later when Courfeyrac stretches out his back from where he’s been hunched over his Law textbooks, briefly reaching out for the tea before he realises its long cold and the CD is half-way through yet another repeat. He packs away his books and stretches himself out again. It won’t be long until he should make dinner, and he wants to try and coax at least a little food into Jehan today, so he shuffles through to the bedroom to rouse his boyfriend.

He knocks softly to herald his arrival, and then peers through into the room.

Jehan isn’t on the bed.

Courfeyrac immediately panics, darting into the room to check he isn’t hidden behind the bed or to check for any trace of where he’s gone, but he sees neither.

“Jehan? Jehan!” He calls, walking back out into the hallway. “Answer me, love!”

“Courfeyrac?”

It’s a very small voice, so small that Courfeyrac isn’t sure where it’s coming from at first, and then he realises the light is on in the bathroom. He tries the door, but it’s locked. “Please, let me in, Jehan.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” He hears the soft chant through the wood, little broken sobs escaping around the words.

“It’s okay. Sweetheart, darling, _cher_ , it’s alright. You don’t have to apologise, just let me in, please.”

The door unlocks and opens and Jehan is stood there looking small and scared and tired and hurt, shaking and hiccupping, and his arms are folded tightly against his chest and that’s when Courf realises the material is starting to soak up red. He doesn’t quite suppress the little gasp that escapes him, but he does turn his palms up, a gesture means to calm and soothe.

“Jehan, can I...?” He asks, reaching out gingerly. Jehan presses his arms closer to his chest, but after a moment he nods gently. At first, Courfeyrac just pulls him close and holds him to his chest and makes quiet hushing noises. After a few moments he pulls away and gingerly pulls Jehan’s arms away from his chest.

There are ragged marks, torn skin scratched away with blunt nails, and a couple of thin, clean cuts from a razor. They’re relatively shallow, but they still bleed enough to have soaked little patches into Jehan’s shirt, to send trickles of blood across Jehan’s inner wrists, to let a few droplets fall to the floor. Courfeyrac presses Jehan’s wrists back against his chest, coaxes Jehan to sit on the closed toilet lid, and then rummages to get out the first aid kit.

He pulls Jehan’s wrists down to rest on his lap as he kneels in front of the blonde, takes out a few antiseptic wipes, and starts gently cleaning off Jehan’s wounds. Jehan sits and sniffles and whimpers occasionally.

“I’m sorry.” Jehan whispers again as Courfeyrac is dressing his wrists.

“It’s alright, love. I really wish you wouldn’t hurt yourself, you don’t need to, sweetheart, but I’m not mad. You’ve been trying hard, you did well. Let’s just do even better next time, yeah?” Courfeyrac murmurs, kneeling up a little and kissing Jehan’s forehead. “Are you hungry?”

Jehan shakes his head. “I’m tired.”

“You’re going to at least drink something before you get back to bed, Jehan. And maybe have some yoghurt too. You haven’t eaten all day.” Courfeyrac says, squeezing Jehan’s hands. Jehan doesn’t make a move to agree or disagree, so Courfeyrac just tugs him up and guides him through to the kitchen and watches him force himself to drink a mug of warm milk and eat some of the yoghurt they have in the fridge. Then he lets him shuffle back through to the bedroom and cocoon himself in the duvet and drift off again, curled into the tiniest ball he can manage.

He decides not to join him yet, and goes to sit on the couch with his head in his hands.

~~::.::~~

He’s not expecting the knock on the door.

When he goes to answer it he finds Marius, looking a little windswept and chilly, stood on his doorstep with a wad of paper.

“The notes, from the lecture today.” He says, holding them out. Courfeyrac takes them. “They’re pretty important so I thought I’d drop by tonight rather than later. I’m not free tomorrow and I didn’t want you to not have them for the next lecture...” Marius trails off as he notices that he’s rambling, runs his hand nervously over his dark curly hair, and peers at Courfeyrac. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Courfeyrac puts on a smile and is about to reply that he’s absolutely fine, but something in the way Marius’ eyes look at him stops the words in his throat, and then he feels the smile crack and his lips wobble, and then suddenly he’s careened forward and is crying into Marius’ shoulder. Marius jumps a little, surprised, but wraps his arms around Courfeyrac’s back all the same.

Courfeyrac is vaguely aware of Marius worriedly questioning what is wrong, but all he can do is shake his head and continue to cry. Eventually Marius just sets to rubbing his back, and the movements feel a little awkward, but Courfeyrac supposed that the thought counts.

He wonders if this is how Jehan feels, on the nights he just cries and says nothing.

~~::.::~~

He eventually manages to wave off Marius’ questions – “It’s just stress, is all, Marius, but thank you, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it, and thanks for the notes as well...” – and decides that he is exhausted and just wants to sleep. He pads through to the bedroom and carefully slips under the covers.

Jehan wakes and turns to face him, cuddling against his side. Courfeyrac wraps an arm securely around him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, slurring with sleep. Courfeyrac doesn’t know if he heard the breakdown he just had on the doorstep and all over Marius, or if he’s still apologising for earlier, or just apologising in general, but he simply presses a kiss to Jehan’s temple.

“It’s alright, love. Go back to sleep.” He says.

**Author's Note:**

> Something tells me that breaking Courfeyrac's spirit shouldn't be a thing I enjoy doing so much but what can you do huh


End file.
